


Voices in my Head

by JamesAeza



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cutting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hearing Voices, Hurt/Comfort, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Mild Blood, Sad Logic | Logan Sanders, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesAeza/pseuds/JamesAeza
Summary: Logan angst, yay! This is a bit of a vent fic, as I recently relapsed for the first time in a while. Several triggers and a lil bit of Analogical.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 12
Kudos: 194





	Voices in my Head

It was dark in his bedroom, and silent, and no light filtered in through the windows. 

It was too dark.

This kind of dark made it too hard to keep out unwanted thoughts. Pressing in on him, making him forget what was real and what was fake. It was nights like these that the weight of the world closing in on him became too much to handle, and he needed a release. 

Anything to forget.

_...anything? _

And then there were the voices. The ones in his head. The ones that pushed him to do unspeakable things.

_ You know you want it. _

Logan did know. He knew he wanted it more than he wanted anything else. But there would be the pressing guilt, knowing he’d let his friends down. That they didn’t want him in pain.

_ As if they care. _

They said they cared. But did they? Why should they? There was no reason to care about him.

_ Now you’re seeing sense. Do it. _

He sighed, slowly lifting the sharp, glistening bit of metal. 

_ You deserve the pain. Besides, you know it will feel so good. _

Too good. So terrifyingly good.

He slowly pressed the blade into his wrist, feeling it sink in and watching the blood well up. It was satisfying in such a twisted way, and he was barely getting started. 

There was something about the way the blood dripped down his wrists that was perfect. The way it slowly beaded up, then the beads slid down to the floor. There was blood all over now, but he could always clean it up later. 

Having pierced styro, he had to stem the bleeding somehow or it would just keep pouring out. He ran the fresh cuts under the tap, wincing as the water rinsed off his arms. 

He had almost finished when there was a sudden knock at the door. No, no no. Not now. 

He yanked his sleeves down and shoved the razor in his pocket, rushing to the door and throwing it open.

“Yes? What? Oh, it’s you.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows. Logan was acting off. 

“Uhm, Pat wanted to make sure you’re okay. He said he hasn’t seen you all day.”

“Ah, well you can inform him that there is no need to worry. I am quite all right.”

He went to shut the door, but Virgil blocked it with his foot. 

“You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

“I can assure you I am not.”

“Is that blood?”

Logan froze. “What?”

Virgil looked triumphant. “That’s what I thought.” Then he called out down the hallway. “Roman, can you get over here?”

The muffled Disney music coming from behind the closed door abruptly stopped, and he could hear Roman huffing. “This better be important.”

Logan frowned. “There is no need to bring Roman into this. Virgil, nothing is wrong.”

“Yeah, like hell it’s not,” Virgil scoffed, grabbing his wrist. Logan winced and tried to pull it back, but found Virgil was surprisingly strong.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Roman asked, having just arrived. 

“Just… get in here.” Virgil pushed the other two back into Logan’s room before following them himself and shutting the door. 

“This is what’s going on.” Virgil, hardly gentle, yanked Logan’s sleeve up despite his protests. It was soaked through. 

“Oh, my God…”

Roman traced the huge gashes, looking horrified, then looked up at Logan.

Logan looked away, taking advantage of the moment to pull his arm out of Virgil’s death grasp, tugging the sleeve back over his wrists although he knew that the damage had already been done. 

Virgil sighed. “Do I have to take charge of this? I guess I do. Logan, sit down right now and take off your shirt.”

“Really, Virgil. Don’t you think this may be overkill? I-”

“If you’re about to tell me you’re fine, you can stop right now. People who are ‘fine’ don’t slice themselves open. Now take off the damn shirt.”

He frowned, then self-consciously began to peel off the black fabric. “I hardly think this is necessary.”

The only response he received was a scoff from Roman and an eye roll from Virgil, who then took his wrist gently and began examining the marks. “Okay. Roman, go get hot water, rubbing alcohol, and medicine.” Roman silently nodded and disappeared into the bathroom, returning shortly with the requested supplies.

Virgil began slowly cleaning out each cut, Logan holding back reactions to the pain. Roman sat down next to him on the bed, looking a little closer. “You’re gonna wanna close some of these bigger ones. I can stitch them for you.” Logan opened his mouth to protest before Virgil answered for him. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Logan shut his mouth, knowing it probably wouldn’t do any good. The other two watched as Virgil continued to clean the wounds, Roman finally breaking the silence. “Should we get Padre?”

“No!” Logan yelled, almost at the same time as Virgil answered, “We can tell him later. I don’t want him to, well, lose it.” Logan bit his lip, tasting blood. Patton’s innocence was too precious for him to learn about the darker side of his mind.

Logan sighed. “You’re one to talk,” he muttered, just earning him an annoyed glance and a slightly less gentle rub with the cloth. 

After Virgil had finished disinfecting, Roman slowly got to his knees in front of Logan, threading a sharp sewing needle. 

“Okay. This is gonna hurt, like, a lot. I need to get these closed up.”

Logan just nodded, trying to ready himself. As Roman pushed in the first stitch, he let out a whimper, giving everything he had not to pull his arm away. Roman took a deep breath. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

Virgil carefully placed a hand on his shoulder as Roman got back to work. Logan gritted his teeth. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Virgil whispered. “Just breathe with me. It’ll all be over soon.”

Logan knew he should just take the pain stoically. He tried, he really did. But that was when the voices came back.

_ You deserve to hurt, remember? You’ll never be good enough. _

As Roman pulled a stitch tight, Logan grabbed Virgil’s hand tightly. He didn’t quite mean to, he had acted on impulse in the moment. 

_ Are you stupid? As if he wants to hold your hand like a toddler. _

Virgil looked surprised for a moment, then squeezed his hand back. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re okay. Just breathe.”

Logan just screwed his eyes shut, squeezed Virgil’s hand, and focused on the breathing. 

Before long, Roman sighed, relieved. He broke off the thread, quickly standing up. “There. Now that was an awful experience.”

Logan awkwardly let Virgil’s hand go. Virgil then stood up, suddenly intimidating. 

“Are there any more?”

“My legs, but they’re old.”

“Let’s see.”

He rolled up his pant leg, showing hundreds of overlapping lines and gashes.

Roman put his face in his hands. 

“Okay. Wow. Well, now that we’ve got you patched up, it’s time for you to tell us what the hell you did a dumb thing like that for,” Virgil prodded.

“I... well... I can’t really explain-”

Roman looked about ready to cry. Logan had never seen the normally confident man looking like this. 

“You know we care about you, right?”

_ Do they? _

“Do you?” The words were out before he could think about them. 

“Of course we do.”

_ They’re lying. _

Were they? He knew it was illogical. They had conveyed information, why should he doubt it? They had never given him a reason to in the past. 

“I… I’m sorry guys,” he muttered, picking at the stitches. Virgil grabbed his hand.

“Don’t pick at them! Jeez, you’re like a walking disaster.” 

That one stung a little. 

His voice then softened a little. “And there’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re hurting, and we just want to help you.”

Logan looked at the ground, his hands attacking and reopening old wounds seemingly of their own accord. 

“No! Goddamnit…” Virgil grabbed both of his wrists firmly, this time not letting go. “Just… stop hurting yourself. For a few minutes.”

Logan bit his lip.

“You’re hopeless.”

“You don’t deserve this,” Roman said quietly.

_ Lie. _

“We really just want you to be okay.”

_ Liar. _

“Shut UP!” he shouted, before pressing his lips together tightly. 

Roman looked at him. “Logan? Who are you talking to?”

“The voices…” he muttered, trying to stop the silent, useless tears from falling. His eyes burned.

“Okay, hey. You don’t have to listen to them. You’ll be alright.” Roman gently started rubbing his back. He shied away at first before giving in to the comforting gesture.

_ You know I’m the only one who doesn’t lie. _

He hung on to Roman’s words. ‘You don’t have to listen to them.’

Letting go of Logan’s wrists, Virgil pulled off his hoodie. He slowly helped Logan push his arms through the sleeves. “There. Now just try not to think about how much you want to mess with your arms.”

The sweater was a little big on him, covering his hands and making it difficult to pick or scratch. It smelled like Virgil and almost helped a little with the urges. 

“Alright, now when’s the last time you drank any water? You look terrible.”

He racked his brain to remember. “Yesterday morning? I think?”

“Okay, then we’re going downstairs to the kitchen. You need to get something in you if you want to not feel like shit.”

He knew there was no point in arguing and that Virgil was probably right, so he just got up and followed him down. 

Once Logan was seated on the sofa, Roman found him a glass of water, which he forced himself to take sips of. It was odd how the most necessary things in life could feel so awful sometimes. 

“Can you eat something for me?” Virgil asked quietly. Logan quickly shook his head, stomach churning at the very thought of it. 

“Please. You’ll feel better.” Roman dropped a few crackers on the table. Logan stacked them.

Virgil picked one up. “Here comes the airplane.”

Logan pushed his hand away. “Virgil, I am not a child.” He sighed, annoyed, putting one into his mouth. The food felt strange, and his whole body was protesting. 

After he finished the crackers, he didn’t know if he might throw up, but the look on Virgil’s face was worth it. 

“What do they tell you?”

“What?”

“The voices. What do they say?”

He shook his head. “It’s stupid. They don’t make any sense, so why do they still hurt?”

“They are you. And you can ignore them. I know it feels like you can’t, but you can.”

_ How cute.  _

“You heard him. I can ignore you.”

Virgil smiled a little. “See?”

Logan weakly returned the smile. “Maybe I can.”


End file.
